The sensation of lips swiping across the back of my hand pulls me from restless slumber. Pain, not intense but consistent, gnaws at my stomach.
Fluttering my eyes open, I’m met with the golden hues of twilight bathing my bedroom in a soft tranquility that doesn’t fit my current state.
“Hey, Mrs. Falls.”
Rob’s soft voice pulls my gaze to the other side of the bed, where he’s lying beside me, my hand in his. The fading rays of the sun catch his wedding band, sending a kaleidoscope of color ricocheting off the golden metal.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s time for your next round of medicine. Mom says if we don’t keep up with them, they’ll have to work harder and take longer to dull your pain.”
I blink several times as vague memories of post-op agony, Rob yelling at the nurses to do something about it, and a painful trip back to the condo return to me.
“You carried me to bed.”
The first words I’ve spoken in nearly a day, and they are so stupidly infantile.
Rob chuckles, his dimple making a sweet appearance. “Yes, I did. Any other questions about today’s events? You’ve been kinda out of it.”
“The surgery went well?”
He nods, the movement seeming stilted with his head resting on the pillow beside mine. “It did. The surgeon said he’s confident they removed all the endometrial tissue. Two to three weeks of rest, and you should be feeling better than you were before.”
“Nothing in the media about this?” How weird is my life that fearing the media competes with knowing if the surgery was successful?
“Not a peep,” Rob reassures me with a soft kiss. “Anything else you want to know? Anything about late-night phone calls I’ve been taking, maybe?”
Oh, shit. Did I confess I’ve been eavesdropping on his private conversations while under the influence of heavy medications? “W-what?”
Instead of justified anger over the invasion of his privacy, Rob simply chuckles, then resumes dragging my hand across his lips. “You and I are going to need to work on this whole communication thing as soon as you’re feeling better.”
“Your mom wants to move back to Ohio because she has a hot stud of an orthopedist boyfriend.” I slap my other hand over my mouth, appalled at my willingness to throw Patty under the bus to divert attention away from my wrongdoing.
Rob’s face collapses in a show of disgust. “Maybe not that much communication.”
“Is my baby girl finally awake?” My mother’s voice feels like the softest balm on all my injuries, both physical and mental.
“Mama? What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come until next week.” Try as I might to sit up in bed, pain slices at my abdomen, forcing me to remain flat on my back.
“Don’t move.” Rob places a steadying arm across my chest. “Let’s get your next round of pain killers, first, then when you’re ready, I’ll help you get up. The nurses said you’ll be extremely sore the next few days.”
Extremely sore seems like an understatement. In addition to blinding pain, I have nearly zero control over my core muscles. I feel like a turtle, floundering on my back.
“How did you get here, Mama?”
She appears at the side of the bed, smiling down on me with all the comfort in the world. “Your husband insisted on flying me out here for the big day, and picked me up at the airport while you were asleep.”
My husband.
The man who’s been exchanging clandestine phone calls.
The one who’s ready to tell me what’s really going on.
…has disappeared from his side of the bed, and the entire bedroom.
His admission will have to wait, because my mother is fussing with my pillows and blankets, peppering kisses across my face and telling me how proud she is of me for finally taking this major step toward better health.
And then, Patty joins the party.
Thank God, there’s no more maternal sex talk, but I am helped to the toilet, told to urinate like a toddler undergoing potty training, then force-fed soup before finally being allowed to have the pain medication which feels like a lifeline in a sea of babying and pain.
All I want is an answer direct from Rob’s lips, but he’s smart enough not to interfere with the Moms’ coddling.
Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does.
This is exactly what happens when mothers are best friends.
“Have you given any thought to where you want the wedding? It would be easier for all the guests to attend at home in Ironville, but Sacramento has perfect weather year-round.”
“It’s too late for a wedding. I think we should have a huge baby shower instead.”
“Patty.” My mom gives her the death glare. “We do not have baby showers. It’s bad luck to celebrate the baby before the birth. My mother would have a heart attack if we cast aside any more Greek traditions, and you know how frail her health is these days.”
Rob’s mom nods, in complete agreement. “You’re right. But, these are modern times, too. Who’s to say we can’t have a big birth party slash reception? If we’re going to ask everyone to fly across the country, why not kill two birds with one stone?”
Oh, they’re killing things all right.
Killing my heart.
Patty’s a nurse. She should know what the odds are of me conceiving, even after surgery. And, how can Mom cast aside Greek tradition of a large wedding, even in the same breath as maintaining it for no baby shower?
They’re so excited now, out of their freaking minds with plans I’m not being asked to vote on.
How will they feel when they find out about the impending divorce? Rob’s mom will get her dreams of a big wedding, reception, and grandchild, but my mother won’t. Will that affect their friendship?
Rob’s large form appears in the doorway, both a hope of salvation and a death knell in the Moms’ joy. “That’s enough.”
They both freeze their frantic movement and chatter at his firm tone.
“She’s had a hard day. No need to pile on more stress.”
“This isn’t stress,” Patty retorts. “This is fun.”
“Okay.” Rob sighs, knowing he can’t argue with his own mother. “Then, let’s save the fun for later. I’ve gotta get some sleep before practice tomorrow.”
I didn’t even realize darkness had fallen over the Sacramento skyline, too preoccupied with girding myself against the hopes of what will never be.
After kisses good night, more fluffing of pillows, and assurances of less pain tomorrow, the Moms depart, leaving Rob and I alone in the room.
He takes his time closing the door, turning off the lights, and crawling into bed beside me.
Meanwhile, I’m screaming inside to pick up our previous conversation where we left off.
“Do you need anything else? Water? Another trip to the bathroom? A different position?”
I need fucking answers is what I need. “No.”
He scoots closer to me on the mattress, carefully placing an arm across my chest, well above my incisions. “Is this comfortable? Are you okay if we sleep like this?”
“No.”
He pulls his arm away like I’m on fire. “Too much pain?”
“I can’t be the other woman anymore, Rob.”
“Oh, that.” He sighs, then resumes his position. “Yeah, I meant to tell you earlier.”
Tell me what?
“Mallory, baby.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “You heard me talking to Mallory.”
“My old roommate, Mallory? Jackson’s sister, Mallory?”
He can’t be in love with her.
“Mmhmm,” he hums an affirmative as he sinks further down into the pillows. “She’s been keeping tabs on her brother, since there wasn’t a better way to know what he’s up to between monthly parole checks.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mallory wanted nothing to do with her brother.
“Nope. Now also seems like a good time to confess I haven’t had more sexual partners than you have. I wasn’t kidding when I told you being with someone other than you nearly killed me. No way was I ever going to do that again. It’s you or no one for me.”
I thumb through mental files, trying to remember exactly what he’d said in the past to make me think he’d been with so many women. Did he lie to me, or did I simply cling to what I wanted to believe? It seems like a combination of both, in retrospect. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? You had so many opportunities…”
His only answer is a soft snore. He’s already asleep, his head resting on the pillow beside mine, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
Above the din in my brain and the pain in my stomach, one thought punches through my mental chaos.
I’m going to kill him.